Aerith of the D'Urberfairs
by chibipinkbunny
Summary: Aerith Durbeyfield is driven by family poverty to seek out the wealthy D'urberfairs, but falls prey to the D'Urberfair son, Zack. A different man, Cloud seems to offer Aerith love and salvation. Pairings: Zerith and Clerith. This is an AU story.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** First off I wanted to thank my two wonderful beta's **Mint **and **Blue Jae**! I feel so lucky ^_^ A few things before you read this. Subsequent Author's notes will be at the end. This AU story is heavily based off of the movie/book "Tess of the D'urbervilles." I think I saw this movie a while ago, and it was so awesome! If you do want to watch the movie, I recommend the BBC version. I thought about it, and I realized that I could probably adapt it with the characters of Final Fantasy 7. This story will feature mostly Aerith, Zack, and Cloud. Tifa will also play a fairly significant role as Aerith's younger sister. This story will feature the romantic pairings Zack/Aerith, Cloud/Aerith, and even Cloud/Tifa. Don't ask me when these pairings come into play. That is all part of the fun of the story! I will change this from the Zack/Aerith to Cloud/Aerith category as that time in the story comes. Also, this story takes place in the world of Gaia, but in the late 1800's. It wouldn't work if I did it in the present and you will see why as the story unfolds. This story should be good, as long as I don't botch it up :P Even if you're not a big fan of the pairings you should give it a chance because it really is a beautiful story. Later chapters will probably be longer, but not over 5,000 words. I'm currently writing another story and I'm very dedicated to it so I don't want this one to take over. With all of that out of the way, enjoy!!!

**Disclaimer:** The book belongs to Thomas Hardy, and the characters belong to Square Enix. Lol, I only own the prose and diction of this piece XD

**Prologue**

Silken white clouds rolled through sky, coalescing at random into various shapes, mottling the vast pale blue canvas above. A soft spring breeze wafted through the air bringing promises of the morrow, and sunny days to come. It was on this nice spring day that Gast Durbeyfield found himself walking back home to his family, a wife and six kids, the eldest two being Aerith and Tifa. As far as he was concerned, they were all good children, but his favorite of the bunch was Aerith. Being the eldest child, she was a sensible girl that helped hold the family together, performing many of the chores and raising the children.

As much as he adored her, he hated the stern lectures she gave when he returned home intoxicated, which was more often than his family would have liked. Even though it was early in the day, he had already managed to have a few drinks. His gait was rickety, but he managed to find a steady rhythm as he hobbled down the familiar dirt path.

In the distance, Gast saw a dark figure riding on the back of a proud black chocobo, which was approaching at a slow and steady pace. As the dark rider closed the space between them, Gast recognized him as Parson Smith, a familiar face in the community. Hidden under the black rim of his hat was a serious expression, a mask of formality that he wore to impress his piousness upon the public. Deep lines were etched into his face, evidence of the many years he spent saving souls of the damned.

With a courteous nod and a tip of the hat, Gast gave him a cheerful greeting. "Good day Parson Smith."

Barely stopping to acknowledge the pedestrian, the parson replied, "Good day, 'Sir Gast.'" His austere manner carried over into his speech, giving his words a cold and distant feeling.

Gast stopped suddenly and turned around, a confused expression on his face. "Wait, did you just call me Sir Gast?"

"I did."

This did little to resolve his confusion so he continued, "The other day you also called me 'Sir Gast.'"

With a note of indifference the parson replied, "I may have."

Releasing an incredulous chuckle Gast said, "Well, I'm no one special you know. I'm just plain ol' Gast Durbeyfield the haggler, so why do you keep calling me 'Sir Gast,' like I'm some kind of noble?"

"I suppose it was a whim," the parson said, an amused smile playing at the edges of his lips. "I must admit, I'm an avid historian, and on occasion I indulge myself in this hobby. Going through the county records one day, I came across your name, Gast Durbeyfield, and found you to be a direct descendent of the ancient and knightly d'Urberfair family."

The news struck Gast like a slap on the back of his head. "I've never heard that before!"

"Come here," the parson calmly ordered. He then requested Gast to lift up his chin, which he did, all the while contorting his features, trying to match that of an aristocrat. "Yes," the parson said, "you most certainly have the D'Urberfair nose and chin. The features have degenerated a bit through the generations, but the essence is still there."

Gast stepped back and looked up at the parson with interest as he continued. "Your ancestor was one of the twelve knights that assisted Lord Kain in his conquest of the northern part of this continent. At one time, branches of your family owned vast amounts of land in Kalm, Junon, and Midgar. You declined a little in Edward Geraldine's time, but to no serious extent. In King Cecil II's reign you were made Knights of the Royal Oak, the highest honor bestowed upon a knight. Alas, there have been many Sir Gast's among you, and if knighthood was hereditary, as it was in the days of yonder, you would also be a 'Sir Gast' now."

Clutching his hat tightly to his head, Gast said in surprise, "You don't say!"

With a small nod of confirmation, the parson said, "Yes, the d'Urberfairs were one of the finest families in Midgar."

Still reeling from excitement and shock, Gast took a few steps back to catch his balance. "And here I thought I was a nobody, walkin' around all humble and stuff. How long have you known this?"

The parson explained that he had come upon the information by accident, for it had died out of common knowledge long ago. While tracing the waxing and waning fortune of the d'Urberfairs, he had come across the name Durbeyfield. Being curious, he investigated the subject and found that Gast Durbeyfield was indeed a direct descendant of the d'Urberfairs.

With a slight sigh, the parson said, "I fought with myself about revealing this information to you for I was afraid it might do more harm than good. However, being a man of the faith, I felt it was best if I told you the truth. Besides, I thought you might have already known something about it."

Rubbing his chin in concentration, Gast said, "I mean I knew my family had seen better days before we settled in the countryside of Midgar. I just thought that meant that we had two chocobos instead of the one we have now. Come to think of it, I have a silver spoon and graven seal that's been passed down through the generations, but what good is that without a name? To think that all of this time I came from the flesh of the D'Urberfairs. I had no idea. . . " His voice trailed off, his words holding hope and promise of better days to come. "You know my grandfather must have taken this secret with him to the grave. He didn't care to talk much about our family origins." His happy expression melted into one of concern as he contemplated the fact that he still knew very little about his ancient ancestors. "If I may be so bold, where do the d'Urberfairs live?"

"You live nowhere, your familial line is extinct."

It was a crushing statement, but Gast didn't want to reveal his disappointment, so he looked down at the ground as he mumbled, "That's too bad." Perking up at the thought of other possibilities, he asked, "Where are our family mansions and estates?"

"You have none."

"What about lands?"

"None."

"Shall we ever come back into our own?"

"Ah, well that I can't tell."

"Well, what should I do about this?" asked Gast, the words coming out as a desperate plea.

The parson answered the question in a degrading manner as though he was speaking to a child and the answer was obvious. "Nothing, except chasten yourself with the knowledge of how the mighty have fallen."

The parson's cool tone and icy glare was enough to make any man's blood still, but Gast had enough alcohol coursing through his blood at the moment that the comment did little more than make him pause for a second. "Hey, will you at least have a beer with me? The tap at Pure Drop Pub is mighty good!"

Dismissing him with a hand the parson said, "No thank you. I think you've had enough already." With that final comment, the parson pulled on the reins of the chocobo and took off. As he rode away, he couldn't help but wonder if he had opened up Pandora's Box by sharing this small bit of lore. At least hope was still at the bottom of the box, but he had a sinking feeling that Gast Durbeyfield would drink it away drop by drop with his alcohol abuse.

Gast walked back home with a bounce in his step, lost in a cloud of blissful reverie. Along the way he came across a young lad, whom he entrusted with an errand. "Boy, go to the Pure Drop Pub and send a chocobo and carriage for me." Then he bent over to meet the boy at eye level and whispered, "Tell 'em to put a little rum in the backseat and add it to my account." He added a wink at the end to seal the deal.

Much to Gast's surprise, the boy didn't take well to his order. "Hey, where do you get off calling me boy and orderin' me around?" asked the boy in annoyance.

He held his protruding beer belly and let out a hearty chuckle. "That's right, you haven't heard the news yet. I'm 'Sir Gast', a descendant of the noble D'Urberfairs."

"Huh, who are they?"

"Do you know where Hillcrest is?"

The boy gave a slow nod for he was still reluctant to believe the boastful man.

"Well, under the church on that big hill rests my ancestors. Buried in coffins lined with gold and coated with jewels they are. There's not a man in Midgar's southern province that has grander and nobler skeletons than I."

The boy shifted his weight, contemplating, and then said, "Hey, you don't say."

"Aye, but I do say!" Gast said with merry excitement. "Now get on with it lad and do as I say. I'll reward thee with a handsome sum when you return."

The boy's eyes grew wide with enthusiasm at the prospect of making some money. "Yes sir!" He ran off, spindly legs taking him as fast as he could towards the Pure Drop Pub.

With a sigh of contentment, Gast walked over to the grass and lay down. Basking in the sun, he reflected upon his good fortune as he waited for the carriage to come and take him home. Little did he know that this day would be the first step down a long and winding road of fate. Despite his best intentions, this path of destiny would be forced upon his eldest daughter, Aerith. Being the dutiful daughter that she was, she would walk down the path laid out for her, innocence clouding her eyes to the dangers that lay ahead.

~*~*~*~*~

**Chapter 1**

Framed by undulating hills, the countryside of Midgar resided in a valley, a peaceful sanctuary from the surrounding rough terrain. It was bordered by the bustling sea port of Junon on the west, and the mountainous town of Kalm on the east. Being far removed from the actual city of Midgar, it remained relatively untouched by tourists, thus retaining much of its natural beauty.

Upon entering the valley, one immediately noticed the clean smell and clear atmosphere, which was a sharp contrast to the dark skies of Junon. The occasional visitor was impressed by the idyllic countryside, which extended out for miles, like a lush green carpet that was seemingly endless. The sky above the valley was a dazzling azure, which intensified to a deep aquamarine at the horizon. Without the thick smog of an industrialized city, the sun's gentle rays were unhindered as she caressed the countryside, providing mild winters and warm summers.

Midgar's countryside was known for more that its beauty because it was also rich in history. Many years ago, before civilization came to Midgar, the countryside was densely populated with both trees and wildlife. Back then it was known as the Forest of the White Chocobo, an affectionate nickname given by King William III. At the time, the king owned all of the forests in the northern part of the continent, one of which included the rare and highly prized white chocobos. The king claimed to have seen one once, so he often took trips down to this forest in the hope of catching sight of the legendary bird once again.

The reason behind the bird's popularity was its black beak, which was rumored to heal even the worst ailments. The king's love for the bird was so great that he even went to lengthy measures to protect it. He passed a law that forbade the hunting of white chocobos with the resulting punishment being death. Even though the trees were no longer there, whispers of the legend remained, casting an aura of mysticism over the valley.

While the shade of the forest was gone, some customs from the past had come to stay, like the annual May-Day celebration. At its roots, it was a celebration of purity and springtime. This tradition had evolved throughout the years, but it still remained a highly anticipated event among the single women residing in Midgar's countryside. It allowed the girls to abandon their mundane lives for a day and indulge in dancing and merriment.

Each girl that had come to the celebration was wearing a dress, with no two the same shade of white. Some frocks approached a stark white, while others were tinged a faint shade of beige, and some dresses even had blue undertones. In addition, they each carried a bundle of white flowers in the crook of one arm, and a peeled willow wand in the other. Lined up in a row by pairs, the light of the sun transformed them into a rainbow of purity, a symbol of youth and innocence.

As they walked in procession, they each wore a smile on their lips and carried a song in their heart. It was a melody that held some dream, some affection, or some hope, a hope that refused to die even though it had been starved by years of poverty. There was a certain primitive nature amidst the group, for they had been raised in the country all their life without the benefit of city manners. Their smiles had not been trained, nor had their posture, and they lacked the proper self-consciousness about their features that was expected of proper ladies.

On their way to the meadow, they came across a man hanging out of a carriage hollering about his good fortune. With his eyes closed luxuriously, he cried, "My name's Gast Durbeyfield and I got some fancy relatives buried at Hillcrest. We be the knighted d'Urberfairs."

All of the girls giggled at the man, except for Aerith Durbeyfield, for it was her father. A slow heat was growing within her for her father was making a fool of himself in front of her friends. She felt the blush of embarrassment creeping into her cheeks

The girl next to Aerith asked incredulously, "Isn't that your father?"

She replied hastily, "Leave him alone. He's just tired, that's all."

"Bless you Aerith, for he is a drunken fool," her friend said with a giggle.

"Listen, I won't walk another inch with you if you keep making jokes about him!" Aerith cried. She could feel the anger rising within her and fixed a petulant frown on her face as a warning to the others. This made the other girls realize that they had overstepped their bounds, so they stopped their teasing. After walking a few more steps, Aerith had regained her composure and continued on with the crowd as they walked toward their destination.

At this point in life, Aerith was a vessel of innocence, not yet marred by life's rough experiences. She was also trusting and naïve, which could either be a blessing or a curse, depending upon the situation. There was a bright spark about her, something that most people lost in life when maturing into womanhood. Her rich chestnut brown hair was tied back and braided. Complimenting her hair were emerald eyes that sparkled with life, and pretty rosebud lips that were always ready to smile. To strangers she appeared as nothing more than a pretty country girl, but to those that knew her, Aerith was much more than she seemed.

Walking through the gate, they had reached their allotted spot in the meadow, so the local musicians started the music and the girls began to dance. There were no men yet, so they partnered up and danced with each other in merriment.

On the other side of the hill approached three brothers of a superior class. The oldest two brothers wore outfits that distinguished them as young gentleman, a high waist coat and tie. The youngest brother, Cloud, wore clothes that were slightly disheveled, giving him a bit of an edgy appearance. His unruly golden spikes and fierce blue eyes made him look more like a child of the wind than the well-bred son of an aristocrat.

They had come from Nibelheim to take a walking tour of the countryside of Midgar, so they were new to the customs of this area. Lured in by the sound of music, they crept up the hill and crouched down, trying to remain hidden.

The trio peeked up over the hill, being careful not to be seen. Upon first glance they saw a field full of garden fairies, but on closer inspection they realized they were watching a bunch of country girls dancing in white dresses

"Hey, why don't we go and dance with them," the eldest brother, Nyles, excitedly whispered.

"I. . .uh. . I, don't know," said Cloud in hesitation, "we want to get to the Inn before dark and we're already running late." He turned to look at his other brother, Skye, hoping he would have more sense. "Besides, wouldn't it be kind of intrusive?"

"Nonsense," said Skye, the middle brother, "we'll only linger for a few minutes. They don't look like they have any male partners at the moment. Come on, I'm sure it'd be fun."

Before Cloud could protest, Skye grabbed Cloud's wrist and drug him up to the open field to meet the girls.

"Well, this is a pity," said Nyles gallantly, "all of these pretty girls and no men to dance with them."

The girls momentarily stopped their dancing and stood at attention. One of the girls closest to him said coyly, "The men are still at work, but they're coming later."

Another girl, trying to steal his attention, loudly said, "Until then, why don't you three men dance with us."

"But there are only three of us and so many of you," said Skye in response.

"Then you must pick and choose," said a girl.

"Shhh," hushed a shyer girl, "don't be so forward."

The two eldest brothers quickly glanced over the women, trying to make some distinction among the group. They each chose a girl of their liking, and waited for Cloud to choose his.

Now that everyone had cleared, Aerith saw Cloud and was immediately stricken by a bolt of passion. With a crown of golden hair, and eyes of deepest blue, he looked every bit like the prince from her fairy tales. She was hoping that he picked her, but instead he turned to the girl closest to him and asked her to dance. For all of her noble D'Urberfair lineage, it didn't help her yet, not even in winning the attention of a desired dance partner.

The rest of the group was slightly jilted about not being chosen, but they partnered up with each other once again and resumed their dancing. When it came to the part of the dance where they switched partners, an unexpected twist of fate brought Cloud and Aerith together.

Her emerald eyes flicked up under long brown lashes, only to be met by his deep blue ones, filled with ardent desire. His heart skipped a beat and his legs felt boneless, like the sight of her had made him forget about living. Before this moment he had never taken a true breath of life, but now he felt different, lighter somehow, like his spirit was soaring. A lingering smile passed between them, a silent promise to meet again, sometime, somewhere, somehow.

Just then, the church bells rang, reminding the young men that they had better head back so they could make it to the Inn before dark. The two older brothers thanked their partners and ran off to collect their younger brother. Transfixed by Aerith, Cloud stood frozen in place and unable to move. As he opened his mouth to say something, the words got stuck in his throat, and a warm blush colored his cheeks instead.

"Come on Cloud," Nyles urged, "we have to go!" His brothers had already run down the hill by the time Cloud had finally started moving.

Aerith called out after him with a wave, "It was nice meeting you! Bye!" He threw a shy smile over his shoulder and returned the wave with a quick one of his own.

Due to his delay, he flew down the hill, running the whole way to catch up with them. As he paused to take a breath, he turned around to face the meadow he had just come from. The rest of the girls had resumed dancing, save for one, Aerith Durbeyfield. Her dress was blowing in the breeze as she watched him from the top of the hill, an expression of longing on her face. He wished to stay in that moment, bathed in her beauty, but he didn't want to lose his brothers, so he turned back around and resumed running. It wasn't long before he realized with regret that he didn't even get her name.

~*~*~*~*~

**Additional Author's Note:** Zack will be introduced soon ^_^ Also, I chose the name Nyles and Skye because they both mean Cloud in a different language. Cloud is English for Cloud, Nyles is Gaelic for Cloud, and Skye is Norse for Cloud. Kind of cool, huh? So Professor Gast is obviously out of character in this story. It couldn't be any other way though. Aerith's father, a lovable drunk, is part of the story that I didn't want to change. For those that have seen this story, I will be changing Zack and Cloud a little bit from the story to better fit their FF 7 personas.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The moon, pale as milk glass, made its ascent into the darkening sky while shades of purple and blue mingled at the horizon. As the stars made their twinkling debut, Aerith realized that nightfall was quickly approaching. She wanted to stay and dance a while longer, but her father's odd appearance and behavior earlier in the day made her anxious. This wasn't the first time he'd drunk himself into a stupor, and she had the nagging feeling that her mom needed some extra help at home.

Bidding her friends farewell, she turned and started walking in the direction of her house. On her way, a light melody played in the back of her mind, setting the scene for her to dance with the spiky golden-haired boy she met earlier in the afternoon. Of course, he was a lovely dancer, the best her whimsical mind could conjure up. He was light on his toes, like the evening breeze that swept through the trees, as he whisked her off her feet and twirled her around. She felt like she was gliding on air as they danced round and round in the vast expanse of her imagination. At times it felt real, the brief smiles interrupted by shy glances, but then the muffled background noise would increase to a discernable level and she'd come falling back down to earth.

Eventually she approached her house. Still yards away, familiar sounds flowed out from the interior of her house, now loud enough to be audible. There was a set of rhythmic thumping accompanied by the occasional sound of a cradle violently rocking on a stone floor, all kept in time to a boisterous tune.

Momentarily distracted by the sounds coming from her house, the spiky golden-haired boy disappeared, fading into the cool night mist, and she was alone once again with nothing but memories.

As she made her way inside, the raucous sounds suddenly came to a halt and a high pitched feminine voice exclaimed, "May the gods bless me eyes! Aerith is home!"

After this friendly greeting, Aerith's mother turned her attention back to the baby who had started crying since there was a lapse in the cradle rocking. The other children didn't seem to notice this distraction and continued playing with each other.

A little startled by all of the boisterous activity, Aerith stood on the mat by the front door and surveyed the room as though she'd never seen it before. It looked different than last night, much more drab and dismal than she remembered. Just coming from the colorful May Day celebration, her eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the monochromatic nature of the house. Even in spite of the cheerful atmosphere, the dreariness weighed heavily upon her and pulled her spirits down.

The dim light provided by a flickering candle cast a sickly yellow glow onto the walls, while dark shadows bordered the edges and filled in the corners of the room. It was a sharp contrast to the May Day celebration she attended earlier in the day that was full of brightness and life. She felt a twinge of guilt at the fact that she was disappointed to be back home. If that wasn't bad enough, she felt the chill of self-reproach for not coming back sooner to help her mother and indulging herself in the merry festivities of the May Day celebration.

Her mother was just as she had left her this morning, surrounded by kids as she hung over the washing tub. The beautiful white dress Aerith was wearing had come from that same tub just the day before. She felt remorseful when she realized her mom would have to wash it again because the white ruffled edges were soiled from the wet grass.

Her mother already had every appendage in use, working round the clock to take care of the family. Balanced on one foot by the wash tub, the other foot rocked her youngest child. The cradle-rocker had borne the weight of many Durbeyfield children throughout the years and over time the stone floor had worn the rocker part flat. As the cradle swung back and forth, the baby was jerked side to side in a rough fashion, while Mrs. Durbeyfield hummed a lively tune and put the last of her day's energy into rocking the crib.

Even in her old age, Ilfana Durbeyfield still held onto some of the beauty from her youth. Hidden behind the mask of motherhood were pert pretty lips, rosy cheeks, and a friendly smile, rendering it possible that Aerith's beauty was inherited from her mother and not from the noble d'Urberfair line.

"I'll rock the cradle for 'ee," Aerith said gently, trying to help her mother out.

"Well it's about time. I thought you'd be home long ago," her mother said with a tone of impatience overlaying her words.

Aerith was a little startled by her mother's odd behavior. She was acting like a lit firecracker ready to explode with some kind of sensational news or emotion. Usually her mom was in a light-hearted mood as she went about the house, performing the necessary housework, rarely bothering to ask the children to help out. But today there was a certain sense of excitement and joy underlying her maternal look that Aerith couldn't quite decipher, and it troubled her.

"Well I'm glad you came home," her mother said in a cheerful voice, trying to soothe Aerith's worried expression. "I need to go and fetch your father, but what's more than that, I have some exciting news for 'ee!"

It should be noted that Ilfana spoke the dialect of the countryside, while Aerith, who passed the Sixth Standard Test in the National School under a Midgarian-trained mistress, spoke two dialects, a proper one to persons of importance, and the dialect of her mother when she was at home.

"Since I've been away?" Aerith asked with brows furrowed in confusion.

"Ay!"

With flushed cheeks, she raised her voice in anger, "Well, did it have anything to do with father making a complete fool of himself this afternoon in that carriage? I thought I was going to pass out and die of shame!"

Dismissing her with a hand Ilfana said, "Oh, that was all part of the act!" The next few words came spilling out of her mouth faster than she could keep up with. "We've been found to be the greatest gentlefolk in the whole county – reaching all the way back to the founding of Midgar – to the days of the Pagan Turks – with monuments, and vaults, and crests, and the Gods knows what all. During King Cecil II's reign, we were made Knights o' the Royal Oak, our real name being d'Urberfair!" Aerith was standing to the side, arms crossed, apparently unimpressed, so her mother continued. "Doesn't that make you happy? Twas on this account that your father rode home in such a foolish manner. It wasn't the alcohol like everyone else assumed."

Trying to play along, Aerith said, "Well I'm glad for that, but will it do us any good mother?"

"O yes!" Ilfana replied, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Your father thought great things would come of it. Why, there should be someone of our rank coming down to visit us 'tis soon as it is known. Your father learnt it from the Reverend while coming home. He's been telling me the whole pedigree of the matter."

Aerith asked suddenly, "Where is father?"

Her mother kind of danced around the answer, feeding her bits and pieces of irrelevant information. "Your father went to the doctor today. It is not consumption at all it seems. It is fat round the heart, a' says. There it is like this," Ilfana said while making a picture of the heart with her hand. She used her other finger as the pointer as she went on to describe the details of his condition, "The doctor said that his heart is enclosed all round there, and all round there; this place is still open, but as soon as it meet, so. . . " With a sigh, Mrs. Durbeyfield closed her fingers into a complete circle, "off he goes." The doctor says, "You may last ten years, ten months, or even just ten days."

Aerith's stepped back and gasped in alarm at both the situation and her mother's bluntness. How could he possibly die now that their luck might be changing? Furthermore, how could her mom talk about her father's dire condition like he was nothing more than a farm animal?

Aerith was getting tired of her mother's ambiguous little dance. She'd heard everything about her father except where he was, and she was starting to get frustrated with her mother. Putting her hands on her hips and glaring in an intimidating manner, Aerith asked, "So tell me, where _is_ father?"

Her mother's soft smile turned into a frown of deprecation. "Don't go bein' so angry!" Much to Aerith's surprise, her mother defended her father. "The poor man felt so exasperated by the news that he went up to 'Magic Pot Pub' half an hour ago. He wanted to get up his strength for his journey tomorrow with that load of beehives. It's a long journey so he'll have to start shortly after twelve tonight."

Now Aerith knew the reason her mother was reluctant to reveal her father's location. This wasn't the first time her parents had been irresponsible in this manner. "Get up his strength!" said Aerith fiercely, her voice taking on a sharp tone of admonishment. "Oh my gods, go to a pub to gain up his strength! And you! You allowed him to do it!"

Her anger seemed to fill up the whole room, making the children and her mother cow under its oppressive weight.

Fighting back with words much softer than fire, her mother defensively said, "Well, it's not that I let him go. I was waiting for 'ee to get home so someone could take care of the kids while I went to fetch him."

With green eyes fixed on her mother, she boldly stated, "I'll go."

"Oh no Aerith, don't bother. I'll go."

Aerith though about resisting, but as she looked upon her mother's tired face she felt a great deal of sympathy for her. With deep lines etched into skin that was still young, she looked much older than her years would predict. Her mother's hat and jacket were placed by the front door, ready to make a quick escape as soon as she had the chance. As much as she loved her many children, she eagerly looked forward to a chance to get away from it all and momentarily push aside the tears and tantrums.

"While I'm gone, take the 'Complete Fortune Teller,' to the outhouse," Ilfana said while putting on her garments.

The book had definitely seen better days, the leather binding had partially disintegrated through repeated use and some of the pages were falling out. It was begging to be put to rest, but Ilfana swore by that book and didn't have the money to buy another. As Aerith picked up the book, her mother started out the door.

Going to pick up her restless husband was one of the few joys she still had left in her simple life as a mother. To be able to dismiss her children for an hour or two and join her husband in a pub made her happy. A calming aura surrounded the moment, soothing her frazzled nerves, an accumulation of many years of child rearing. Her troubles took on a metaphysical nature, lending itself to peaceful contemplation, allowing her inner serenity to manifest itself. Sitting by her husband, without the children, felt much like it did when he was courting her. She overlooked his drunken behavior and slovenly appearance in favor of her imagination, which disguised him as the ideal lover. Eventually when they got home she would come back to her senses, but for now he was witty and charming, and she was enjoying every minute of his company.

Now that Aerith was alone with the children, she did as she was told, and took the grimy volume of the 'Complete Fortune Teller' and put it in the outhouse. Her mother's superstitions forbade the book from staying in the house overnight for fear it might bring bad luck to the family. It was pulled out when needed, and taken out of the house before everyone went to sleep. Between Ilfana's belief of the supernatural, superstitions, dialect, orally transmitted ballads, and Aerith's proper schooling and trained National teachings, there was about a two-hundred year gap. Aerith was a product of the new generation, one that believed in science and logical reasoning. She understood her lowly place in life and was trying her best to rise above it through many years of schooling.

As she made her way back to the house, she contemplated the reason that her mother felt the need to consult the old fortune teller's book. She figured it might have something to do with her father's discovery of their noble ancestral heritage, but she was never sure when it concerned that book. For all she knew, her mother could have been looking for information regarding her father's heart condition. As sorry as she felt for her father, she didn't think that book would make a difference in the end.

Dismissing this issue, she started to take down the linens that had dried during the daytime in the company of her ten year old brother Luke and fourteen year old sister Tifa. There were only two years between Aerith and Tifa, but Aerith being the oldest took on the brunt of her mother's responsibilities. At times Tifa resented Aerith's authority, but eventually she gave in because she knew Aerith always meant well. Next in line to Luke were two younger sisters Hope and Modesty, who were seven and six years old respectively. There was also a child of three and a baby still in his first year.

These young souls were all passengers on the Durbeyfield ship, of which Ilfana and Gast were the captains. The children were entirely dependent upon their parents to steer clear of stormy weather and lead them to safe shores. If the ship encountered a disaster, such as disease, starvation, degradation, or death, everyone on board felt the pain. These six helpless creatures had never asked for life on any terms, much less the difficult conditions involved with the shiftless life of the Durbeyfield clan.

A few hours had passed, but there was still no sign of either their mother or father. The city was preparing to sleep, turning off its lights and closing down, resting up for a full day of work the next day. It worried Aerith that her parents were both out so late.

Now that her mother had left to go fetch her father, there was one more to fetch and bring back home. Aerith reasoned that a man who was supposed to start his journey so early in the morning should not be in a tavern, drinking in celebration.

Something had to be done, but she had to stay and watch over the children, and she needed Tifa to stay home and help her. Luke, being the next oldest, was her first choice for the mission. Turning to Luke, she bent down to face him at eye-level and politely asked, "Do you think you could go to 'Magic Pot Pub' and bring mother and father back?"

The boy was proud that his sister had entrusted him with such responsibility, so with an eager nod of agreement he went out the door and was swallowed up by the night.

Aerith started worrying again when half an hour had passed and there was still no sign of Luke or her parents. She figured that with its gay atmosphere, he must have lingered at the pub, waiting for his parents to take him home. Running out of options, she realized that she was going to have to go herself to retrieve them.

"I'm going to go fetch them," Aerith said, her voice firm with determination. "Tifa, I'm going to need you to watch over the children while I'm gone."

Trying to hide her fears, Tifa put on a stern mask of certainty as she acquiesced to Aerith's request.

Aerith put all the children to bed and made sure to lock up the house before she left. Walking down the dark and crooked lane, she said a little prayer in the hope that everything would be alright.

~*~*~*~

**Disclaimer:** The book that this story is based on is, "Tess of the D'urbervilles," by Thomas Hardy. All of the Final Fantasy characters belong to Square Enix.

**Author's Note:** I only have one beta for this chapter because **Mint** has a whole month of tests, so she won't be back till the next one. Anyway, I wanted to thank my wonderful beta **Blue Jae** for helping me with this! I realized something as I'm writing this. Most fanfiction stories start out with a bang. Well, old-time English novels or stories based on them, take a while to get going. Trust me, this story does pick up, eventually. Lol. Sorry for the long delay. December was filled with finals, and I updated my other story given the first chance to write _ I'll be more consistent in alternating my stories :P Oh, and sorry for no Zack in this chapter. Lol, I got ahead of myself last chapter. He'll be coming soon, but I shan't be making any more promises. Oh, there's a reference to consumption in this chapter, which is just an archaic term for pulmonary tuberculosis.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Nighttime shrouded the town of Midgar in a thick blanket of darkness, while the stars twinkled above like diamonds on black silk. In the quiet of the night they sprinkled stardust on the ground below, its soft luminescence lulling the town into slumber. But not for Aerith, there was no stardust for her, just the cruel howl of the wind scolding her for being out so late and walking down these streets alone. With no choice in the matter, her feet came down on the uneven cobblestone path in a rushed cadence, one foot in front of the other, leading her towards the long and broken village. The dark night got darker still, and the shadows lay in waiting, ready to pounce on unsuspecting victims and devour them into nothingness.

Ever watchful of her surroundings, Aerith braved the cold night, while her parents were busy enjoying themselves at "Magic Pot Pub." Situated on top of an Inn, one had to chance the steep steps to reach the parlor upstairs, though the real trick was going back down with a belly full of liquor. But the alcohol was of the finest quality in town, so despite the occasional fall down the steps, people kept coming back for more.

There were about two dozen people in this room, enjoying the plentiful liquor and gay atmosphere. They were seated at ease on rickety old stools with wood cracked and splitting. With walls dark and dingy, the décor left much to be desired. The window, the only source of natural light, was draped with a tattered woolen shawl discarded from the landlady, Mrs. Rolliver. Hung in a haphazard manner, the shabby grey material settled into awkward folds, blocking out the moonlight.

The alcohol coursed thick through their veins, and their souls spread beyond their skins and filled the room with their personalities, lightening up the atmosphere. In the process, the room had transformed from a slummy bar into a nobleman's fancy room of entertainment. The large shawl almost looked like it was spun of the finest silk thread, and the stools became chairs of the finest wood, oak stained a rich shade of cherry and covered with a shiny lacquer.

Mr. Durbeyfield sat slumped over the counter, humming absently to himself, "I be as good as some folks here and there! I've got a great family vault at Hillcrest, and finer skillentons than any man in Midgar!'

His wife leaned over, looked him in the eyes and whispered, "I just came up with a great idea!" John remained unresponsive so she gave him a nudge. "Come on John, don't 'ee see me?"

He looked through her as though she were a translucent windowpane and went on with his broken chorus. "I be as good as some folks here and there! I've got a great family vault at Hillcrest, and finer skillentons than any man in Midgar!'

The landlady shushed him, "Hush! Don't `ee sing so loud. I can't afford to have you wakin' people up downstairs."

"Oh, 'ee can't help it," Mrs. Durbeyfield responded in a jovial voice, "he's just too excited about the news of his noble lineage."

"D'ye think there's any money hanging by it?'

"Ah, that's the secret," said Ilfana, pretending to be wise beyond her years. "Tis good to be related to the coach even if you don't ride in it." She dropped her public voice and softly told her husband, "I've heard there's a great rich lady all the way over in Gongaga by the name of d'Urberfair."

John pulled himself up a bit from his stooped over position. "What's that you say?"

Clasping her hands to her chest, she repeated the information. "My project is to send Aerith over there to claim kin."

"There is a lady by that name over in Gongaga," Gast confirmed. He was now at full attention, excitement leaking through his slurred voice. "Parson Smith didn't think of that, but she's no better than us. We're like family."

While they were busy discussing Aerith's future, little Luke snuck up behind them, quiet as a mouse. He was waiting patiently for a break in the conversation whereby he could ask of their intention to return.

"She _is _rich and I'm sure she'll take a liking to Aerith," Ilfana squealed in hushed excitement, "and besides there's no reason why two branches o' the same family can't be on visiting terms."

"Of course not my dear," Gast said with a bright smile.

"Yes, and we'll all claim kin!" Luke piped up. "Then we'll be able to visit her and ride in fancy coaches and wear fancy clothes."

"Good heavens child," Ilfana lightly scolded, "what in the devil are you doing here?"

Standing with hands clutched behind his back, Luke swayed to and fro, avoiding the question. "Ummmm. . . "

"Well, get on with 'ee! Go play by the steps and wait for us." She nudged him in the direction of the stairs, "That's it, go on."

Luke shuffled towards the steps in a disparate mood because he was no longer part of their conversation. He sat down with a loud huff, turning his head over his shoulder to make sure his parents noticed his displeasure.

Ilfana ignored the boy and turned back to her husband. "I just know that Mrs. d'Urberfair will fall in love with Aerith. Then maybe that will lead to some fine gentleman taking her hand in marriage."

Gast took a big sip of whiskey before he started, "Well how do you figure?"

"Today I read her fortune in the _Fortune-Teller _and it predicted such a thing. Oh Gast, you should have seen how pretty Aerith looked today. She looked just like the incarnation of beauty itself."

"Have you talked to her about it?"

Her voice dropped down an octave from its previous excited pitch. "Well, not yet, but it's certain to put her in place for a grand marriage. How could she say no to that?"

Raising a skeptical eyebrow, Gast took another sip of whiskey. "I don't know. You know how much I love Aerith, but she can be peculiar sometimes."

"You just leave that to me. I'll convince her."

Despite Ilfana's attempt to keep their conversation private, attentive ears around the bar had picked up on the conversation. Now the whole bar, and eventually the subsequent town, would know about the d'Urberfairs and Aerith's fine prospects for marriage.

"I zeen that Aerith today, dancing around with the rest of the girls in white," said one of the bar's patrons, talking to an invisible listener. "Them Durbeyfields better be careful with her. She's a bit too pretty for her own good." Nobody responded though the boozer was too drunk to really notice.

After waiting for only a few minutes, which seemed like an eternity for Luke, he heard the sound of footsteps below. As his sister ascended the stairs, Luke called attention to her presence. "Aerith is here!"

Ilfana and Gast turned to see Aerith at the top of the stairs. Heads turned and men whistled at the sight of a pretty girl, a rarity in the pub. In the midst of the alcoholic vapors she looked oddly out of place because her skin was much too young and supple to fit in with the crowd, wrinkled with middle-age.

It took no more than a reproachful flash from her fiery green eyes to make Ilfana and Gast quickly finish their liquor and follow her down the steps.

Miss Rolliver's warning followed after them, "Try to be quiet so 'ee don't wake the ones downstairs. Night t'ye!"

Once they were outside, Aerith looped an arm around her father's shoulder for support while Ilfana held tightly onto his waist. Gast had more than a few drinks, so he was walking all over the place as they set on a steady path, straight ahead. He stumbled over himself more than once, and Aerith and Ilfana struggled to hide his inebriated state from Luke, and other nighttime onlookers. Aerith could feel her cheeks redden with embarrassment, but in the cold of the night, others might have mistaken it as a side-effect of the chilly weather.

As they approached their house, Gast perked up and slurred, "I got a fam--ily vault at Hillcrest."

"Oh, don't be so silly honey," Ilfana said, "You are not the first one to have noble relations. Look at the Anktells, and Horseys, and the Tringhams, once mighty families, now all gone to seed. Granted, yours was bigger folks in the day, but now they're all the same, poor without a penny to their name. Bless God that I never had to deal with such a thing, and I've nothing to be ashamed of in that way!"

Gast countered, "Aye, you've made a fool of yourself plenty times before."

Aerith interrupted them by bringing up the topic that was at the forefront of her mind. "Who is going to bring the beehives to market tomorrow? I'm afraid Father doesn't look like he can handle it."

"Nah, don't you worry about that," Gast said, giving Aerith a sloppy smile. "Just give me an hour or two to rest up, and then I'll be good as new."

It was eleven o' clock before everyone was in bed, and the latest hour for transporting the beehives was two o' clock the next morning. It was a long distance to travel from their house to the marketplace, about thirty miles, and the roads were bad. Then there was the family chocobo, Sunny, who couldn't win a race if his life depended on it, but he made up for his lack of speed with diligence. He always got the job done.

At half-past one, Mrs. Durbeyfield crept into the room where Aerith and her brothers and sisters slept. She tiptoed around the bed until she came to Aerith. Shaking her awake she said in a whisper, "I don't think your father is feeling well enough to go to the market tonight."

Trapped in the vague interspace between dreams and reality, everything was hazy, and Aerith struggled to make out her mother's voice. She sat up slowly and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. "Well someone must go. If we don't take it to market today we'll have to wait until next week and then swarming will be over. Then we'll have a whole bunch of useless beehives."

Ilfana was wringing her hands, tense and strained, yet her voice didn't reflect the urgency of the situation. "Well, maybe one of the feller's from town can do it."

"Mother!" she said proudly, "you can't do that. Then everyone will know that father was out drinking last night. I'll go," she huffed, "but only if I can bring Tifa along for company."

Her mother agreed to the arrangement and roused Tifa from her sleep while Aerith started preparing for the long journey ahead. She hastily threw her clothes on, grabbed the lantern, and went outside to retrieve Sunny. Along the way, she found a patch of Gyshal Greens and picked a large handful of them and stuffed them in her pocket for later.

Much to her surprise, her mother had already prepared the chocobo with the harness and cart. As she approached Sunny, she reached into her pocket and held out some Gyshal Greens. "Come here," she cooed, "you like these remember?"

Through half-lidded eye filled with sleep, the handful of lush greens looked almost like a handful of weeds. As the Gyshal Greens came into focus, he tilted his head, contemplating, and then loudly chirped, "Wark!"

"Sssh, not so loud," she laughed. "Come with me."

With a spring in his step, the chocobo followed after her, never taking his eyes off of the green treat. When she stopped, she held out the greens before him, and he quickly gobbled them up with a happy warble. After he was done, he looked at her hands, expecting more to appear. He loudly chirped, "Wark."

She held her hands up towards him, open-palmed, and said, "All gone."

Dark avian eyes narrowed on her hands, and while her hands were empty he refused to believe she wasn't hiding some more, so he bent down and nipped her pocket.

"Hey," she said with a smile, and pulled her skirt out of his grasp. "I said I don't have any more."

He stared at her intently and blinked as she was talking, as though he understood what she was trying to tell him. "Kweh?"

"Nope sorry all gone," she said, turning her pockets inside-out to fully convince him.

No more. It was a sad thought and all Sunny could focus on for the time being. His head drooped in disappointment, and his tail feathers flattened. Then there were his eyes, big dark pools of sadness that drew Aerith in and made her feel as if she was drowning. She quickly turned away, or else she would have sunk to the bottom, and spent the rest of the night searching for another patch of Gyshal Greens.

Aerith reached up to stroke the top of his head. "There, there," she said in a soothing voice, "maybe we'll find some more later." He leaned into her touch and gave a few soft warbles, and she laughed again.

Tifa came walking outside with a sleepy smile on her face and a basket full of food. Handing the basket over to Aerith, she said, "I thought we might get hungry so I packed up some food."

Taking the proffered basket of food, Aerith smiled in return. "Thanks, I really appreciate you coming along with me."

She sighed, and looked down at the ground as she said, "Yeah, well it wasn't your fault father got drunk."

The girls paused for a moment, letting silence settle between them. Aerith went to hang up the lantern on the side of the load, and put a bunch of candle ends in the bottom. "Alright, I think we're ready to go. You ready Sunny?"

He gave a tired sound, the equivalent of a sigh if he were human, "Kweh. . . "

"What's wrong with him?" Tifa asked.

"Oh, he's just tired I think. Let's go easy on him at first till he wakes up. We'll walk beside him at first to give him a break."

Thus they set off on their journey, one large yellow bird, two girls, and a cart full of beehives. The road that stretched before them was a series of undulating hills, each one higher than the next. The night was dark and full of mystery, so Tifa kept close to Aerith's side, just in case that gnarled oak tree was really a tiger descended from its lair.

Since morning was far away, they created their own by the light of the lantern. They breakfasted on bread and butter and for a moment their troubles melted away; the night didn't seem as black and they didn't feel as tired. Aerith ended up giving some of her bread to Sunny, which perked him up a bit.

After a while the hills evened out and they came upon level ground, so they mounted in front of the wagon, and Aerith took the reins. Tifa suddenly became reflective. "Mother says you're going to marry a gentleman."

"What?"

"Oh, she hasn't told you yet?" Tifa asked.

"No, but I guess I'd find out soon enough." Aerith rolled her eyes, "Mother doesn't stop, does she?"

Tifa smiled as she said, "Well, marrying a rich gentleman wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"Being offered up like a common cow doesn't appeal to me."

Up until this moment, Tifa hadn't realized that Aerith was so opposed to the idea. In an empathetic gesture, she mirrored Aerith's dour expression, "Yeah, I guess not."

They both became still and lapsed into a pondering silence. Tifa didn't want to do any more damage and her older sister was too consumed by thought to involve herself in a conversation. After a while Tifa moved on while Aerith still closed herself off to the world. Leaning back against the beehives, the dark-haired girl watched the stars above. Bright pulses of light lit up the dark sky, in serene disassociation from the two wisps of life below. It made her feel small and insignificant, like a speck of sand on the coastal shore by the village front. Her thoughts extended out to the universe and beyond, muddled ideations that no one seemed to know the answer to.

"Aerith," Tifa asked in an innocent voice, "Do you believe in God?"

The question broke through her barrier of silence, but she was puzzled by Tifa's sudden introspection. In a certain voice she answered, "Of course."

"Where do you think he lives?"

"I don't know, maybe beyond the stars."

"Do you think he watches over us?

Aerith glanced up at the sky and answered, "I'd like to think he does."

"Is that why you pray so much? Does God really listen?" Tifa's voice gained a sharp edge to it, which quickly garnered her sister's attention.

"God listens, but sometimes he answers prayers in a way that we can't see," she replied in a certain voice.

"You really think so?" Tifa asked, "because if God really answered prayers father would drink less and we wouldn't be so poor."

"I suppose so, but maybe if I didn't pray it would be worse."

If it were anyone else she would have belabored the point until it was raw and bleeding, but she didn't feel like testing out Aerith's anger, at least not tonight. Left to her own reflections, it wasn't long before she started to get sleepy. She wanted to stay up to help keep Aerith awake, but the background noise of the night, the rhythmic sound of the chocobo's canter, and her sister's calming presence made it very difficult to keep her eyes open.

"Do you mind if I go to sleep?" she asked through a yawn.

"Sure, I think I'll be okay."

Aerith wasn't the best at driving a chocobo, but Sunny was well-behaved and easy to manage. There was always the danger of falling asleep, but she didn't feel tired, at least not at the moment. Tifa pushed the beehives back so that she had some space to curl up and she went to sleep.

At first Aerith didn't find it hard to stay awake, but it was late and a few hours past her usual bedtime. Without Tifa to keep her company, she eventually fell into a deep reverie, somewhere between the waking world and that of sleep. The forest turned into a fantastical enchanted woods and she was no longer on her way to the market, but on her way to a ball thrown by the prince, a stunning blue-eyed blonde-haired man. Sunny was no longer just a yellow chocobo, but a thoroughbred gold one that had been bred to have the best attributes. Her old tattered dress was no longer made of rags, but of fine Wutainese silk and brocade velvet. Her imaginings grew more extravagant with every thought, further removing her from reality, and before long she had drifted off into slumber.

A sudden jerk woke her from her sleep, and she noticed that the wagon had come to a sudden stop. Then a strangled cry, unlike anything she'd heard before, pierced through the darkness. It sounded almost like Sunny's tail feathers had been lit on fire. Quickly pulling herself together, she noticed that Sunny's harness had gotten caught in a bush, and he was frantically struggling to free himself.

A loud shout came from up ahead, "Hoi there! Move out of the road!"

The morning mail cart, with its noiseless wheels, was coming straight towards them. Without a second to spare, she scrambled over to untangle his harness from the bush.

The shout came again, but louder this time, "Move out of the road!"

The cart was just about to crash into them, so she dived out of the way to avoid getting crushed.

Sunny screeched, "WAAARK!"

Speeding along the lanes like an arrow, the mail cart had crashed into their carriage. The pointed shaft of the cart entered Sunny like a sword, and as it was withdrawn, the blood started gushing out of him like a stream, falling with a hiss onto the ground.

Aerith picked herself up from the ground and quickly ran over to Sunny. Placing her hands over the wound she tried to stop the blood from gushing out, but she was splattered with more blood than she could keep in.

Tifa had just woken up and was completely disoriented by the sight of it all. It took a while before she was able to gain her composure and realize she wasn't in a dream. She rushed over to help Aerith, but by then it was too late.

The life-force had drained out of Sunny, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud. Aerith took his head in her lap and started stroking him, like she was putting him to sleep, only this time it was for an eternity.

"Kweh," Sunny moaned as he struggled to keep his eyes open. He didn't understand what was going on, only that he felt very weak. His breathing had become labored, and his chest ballooned out with each breath as his body fought to stay alive.

After making sure that his own animal was uninjured, the mail man came over to Aerith and helped her remove the harness from the fallen chocobo.

`You was on the wrong side," he said with a groan. "I am bound to go on with the mail-bags, so that the best thing for you to do is to bide here with your load. I'll send somebody to help you as soon as I can. It is getting daylight, and you have nothing to fear."

After ensuring that Aerith and her sister would be okay, the mailman took off and left them to their grief. A gust of wind swept through the area, the sorrowful sigh of a soul passing over. Feeling the chill, the starlings in the trees took flight, singing a song as they ascended into the sky, a dirge for their fallen comrade. Light yellow feathers marred with crimson stain, a sun that bled, a life that was over before it'd been spent.

"It's all my fault! Sunny is dead!" the girl cried, gazing at the spectacle. "There is no excuse for me. What will mother and father live on now?"

Tifa tried to reassure her sister, even though she felt just as much grief. Placing a hand on her sister's back, she said, "It will be okay Aerith, they'll figure something out."

Aerith snapped back, "How is it going to be okay?! Huh?" Tifa shrank bath from the scathing remark as her sister continued, "Not everything's always going to be okay so stop trying to make it that way." She smothered her face in bloody hands as she started to weep.

Tifa wasn't one to pray, but she didn't have a better solution at the moment, so she clasped her hands together and prayed to God. After crying until her tears dried up, Aerith turned to the side and saw her sister praying.

"What are you doing?" she asked softly

"I'm praying. You said it helped, so that's what I'm trying to do."

Feeling guilty from her earlier outburst, Aerith quietly murmured, "Thanks."

Side by side, the two girls prayed, a silent request for mercy, but this time God didn't listen.

~*~*~*~

**Disclaimer:** The book that this story is based on is, "Tess of the D'urbervilles," by Thomas Hardy. All of the Final Fantasy characters belong to Square Enix.

**Author's Note:** I wanted to thank **demonegg** and **Armae** for helping me with this chapter! Also, I wanted to thank **Blue Jae** who beta read it for me ^^ Thank you! I really appreciate all the help ^_^ The story would be much worse, and/or confusing without them.

Zack is coming in the next chapter ;) I'm 99% sure about it this time, but sometimes things change when you write. Finally the fun begins :) It shall be interesting at the very least. I'm not quite sure how he'll turn out. Lol. Oh, I feel a little bad about the chocobo. . . I wanted to make you like him before I killed him. Don't hate me _ Although there's much more angst in store, so this was just a preview. I love chocobos! I would have rather had him live, but I must do what is best for the story.

I started posting updates for my two stories on my profile page. I know a month seems long for a 4,000 word chapter, but the other story has 5,000-11,000 word chapters so that's one of the reasons it takes me a while. I do alternate though, so I'll be working on the next chapter of my, "In the Shadow of Freedom," story after this. Anyway, updates should be under, "Bunny." I've brought him here for a special appearance ;) Here he is!

**(\ /)  
(l_l)  
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